Vengeance
by Oliversgurl
Summary: In the Tower mages resigned themselves to the knowledge that if a templar abuses them nothing good will come from reporting it. Anders hasn't learned yet that with the Wardens he does have a voice. Nate/Anders   Abuse from someone who is not Nate


Not mine, as you should well know by now, neither is the description for Daylen Cousland or Iocane powder. They belong to the Late David Eddings, and William Goldman respectively.

And I'm a sick sick puppy. Just sayin.

* * *

><p>"Anders, what in the Maker's Hell happened to your face?" Nathaniel said, studying the very large and very obvious bruise forming on the mage's face.<p>

Anders pulled his chin out of Nathaniel's hand and frowned. "I ran into a door Nate. You know I'm clumsy."

"A door? Last week it was stairs, and the week before that you'd fallen in the tub." Nate huffed admonishment. "You've got to be more careful, Mage. You should also heal that before it gets worse." He took Anders's chin in his hand again.

Anders jerked away and shook his head. "I'd rather not waste mana on something so small. It's not a big deal, and it will fade soon enough."

"If you say so, love." Nate gave him a quick peck on the uninjured cheek. "You'll let me know if anything is going on though, right?"

_Shit, he doesn't believe me!_ " Things are fine." Anders flashed him a smile. "You know me, there's no one in the whole Keep that doesn't want to be my friend."

Nate groaned. "I _know_. I've been witness to three separate proposals from two young women and one young man in the Keep for you hand. I've _also_ been ambushed twice in the baths with people trying to get rid of me."

Anders forced a bright laugh. "It keeps you on your toes, love!"

"Hmph." Nate smiled and gave Anders a more thorough kiss. "I suppose it does at that. So where are you going now?"

Anders smiled. "I have a new mage the Commander wants me to teach. The young puppy can't even light a flame. I'm surprised he passed his Harrowing."

"I see." Nate frowned. "Be careful, and don't fall down any more stairs."

"I'll do my best!" he said with a chuckle, "But you never know when they might creep up on you." With a jovial wave Anders set down the hallway, heading in a lazy pattern through the Keep until he ended up at his Commander's office.

Commander Daylen Cousland was a big man, but his was a bigness of large heavy bone and ropey tendon rather than of flesh and fat, with piercing grey eyes and deep brown hair done in cornrows and pulled back into a ponytail. His nose looked as if it had been broken at one time and not set right. He wore what little beard he had exactly as Nathaniel and his expression was perpetually smug and haughty as if everyone was dirt beneath his boots. He was a warrior, and it showed in everything he did, from bellowing orders in a battle, to crunching through a Darkspawn with the massive two-handed blade he'd stolen from a Qunari.

Anders paused at the closed door and squared his shoulders. _Just do what he says. When he's done playing with you, you can go back to Nathaniel and let him love the hurts away. This is nothing compared to the Tower. He saved your life. This is the least you could do to repay him for killing Rylock._ He raised a quavering hand and knocked on the door.

Silence.

Then the door opened and his much taller Commander was grinning and pulling him into the room by the arm. Anders whimpered for a moment before clamping his lips together in a futile attempt to keep the sounds back. The door slammed shut behind him and a moan of terror rolled up from the back of his throat and slipped out of his lips before he could stop it.

"Come now, Anders," he said in a deep warm voice, "surely you haven't forgotten that I want no noise from you unless ordered?"

Anders shook his head frantically and clamped his lips tighter together. His Commander scared him _worse _than the Architect and the Mother. What was he _thinking_? He didn't owe this to his Commander. But if he told someone... well, who would care about a Mage?

_Nathaniel would,_ a treacherous part of his brain whispered.

No. No. It's best to just put up with it, and deal with it. _If he'd felt no compunctions against killing that Dalish woman, then he'd have no trouble claiming I used Blood Magic and forced him into this... and then I'd lose Nate. So no. I can't tell anyone. No one would believe me._

"Strip."

The order can suddenly and he hastened to comply. When he was standing there, naked, and letting the cool air flow over his skin, Daylen stood and began to circle him. Anders shivered in apprehension and little goose pimples popped up all over his skin.

"It needs something," the Commander mused, "something like a tattoo. I know you sleep with Nathaniel. And I allow it." the big man snapped. "Remember that, Anders. You are mine. And if I tell you to say... break it off with this handsome man of yours, who clearly loves you... and then be mine publicly... well, you'd do it, wouldn't you?"

Anders nodded his head as miserable tears threatened to surface.

"See?" Daylen laughed. "I knew you loved me after all. Now hold still. This is going to hurt, and it will make you ill."

Anders's eyes widened in terror as he heard the clang of some sort of metal, and then heat against his back, and then _Oh Maker_! He screamed through clenched teeth as the brand, it must be a brand, burned the flesh of his lower back. The sickly sweet smell of his own _skin_ rose to meet he nostrils and he gagged, trying desperately to not heave, to not move, to not feel anymore. Then just as suddenly as the hot iron had touched his skin, it was gone and he couldn't feel anything anymore.

"Do not heal this."

Anders nodded.

"If your lover discovers it, tell him it was an accident with the mage you taught today. Tell him that you will be keeping it to remind the _idiot_ of what he'd done, as such lessons are forgotten with the healing in the Tower."

Anders nodded again, tears spilling over despite his best efforts.

"On the bed. Now."

Anders shuffled miserably over to the small cot on the other side of the room, blood pounding in his ears and he settled himself there in the position the youngest Cousland _loved_. On his hands and knees. He heard clothes shuffling behind him and braced himself for more pain.

"You are lucky I only feel like hurting _you_ tonight. Just remember what will happen to your precious recruits if you don't keep pleasing me." He heard Daylen laugh and tried to not flinch when something cold was drizzled over his backside. He felt Daylen's fingers making a token attempt at stretching him before the Commander's large, thick cock was pressing into him, tearing him wide open. He pressed his face down into the pillow not only to muffle his crying, but to stifle the whimpers rolling up from the back of his throat.

Daylen leaned over him, chest pressing to his back and bit viciously at his shoulder before whispering, "Never forget who you belong to, mage," into his ear.

Anders nodded his head into the pillow and the Cousland seemed to be content with that as he sat back and gripped the Mage's hips in such a way there would be bruises there before too long. With a second of pause the man then started a bruising, painful rhythm that made Anders just want to curl up and die. When the warrior reached out and ran a finger in the groove left by the brand the pain flared anew.

Anders screamed but the sound just spurred his Commander on ever further and a few moments later the man spent himself inside of his suboordinate.

"Get dressed, and heal everything but my mark."

Anders clambered off the bed and pulled his robes on as fast as he could, nodding all the while. When he was dressed Daylen shoved him, limping and all disheveled, out of the door and into the corridor.

"Anders."

Anders spun around to face the emaciated form of Justice in Kristoff's body. "Oh, hi. What do you want?" He'd always felt uncomfortable around the spirit, but now it was worse, especially seeing as how there was no way the spirit could have missed where he came from.

"You are Nathaniel's man, are you not?"

Anders was puzzled by this line of questioning. "Yes. I am. Why?"

"Thank you for clarifying." The body, spirit... thing walked away from him.

Anders stood there a moment longer trying to puzzle out what Justice had been clarifying, then shook his head and headed to the infirmary to patch his back so it would still heal.

* * *

><p>When Justice came striding up to him, Nathaniel was confused. What came out of the spirit's mouth however had him completely baffled.<p>

"How can you let this happen?" Justice demanded of him.

"What?" Nathaniel blinked.

"How can you stand by, letting the man you swore to protect when you took him as you lover, be abused in such a manner?" Justice demanded of him.

Nathaniel went cold all over. Those bruises weren't the result of clumsiness. "Who," he said very carefully and quietly, "has been abusing Anders?"

"You mean you did not know?" Justice seemed astounded.

"He's a very convincing liar." Nathaniel started mumbling, "He told me he fell down the stairs."

"And you believed him."

"Yes! What reason would I have to not believe him? He's universally _adored_ in this bloody place! Who would-" he stopped himself mid-sentence. "Did you see him today?"

"Yes. He was leaving the Commander's quarters."

Nathaniel made a growling sort of noise deep in his throat. "Don't do anything, Justice. He's mine and I'll do this my way."

"Your way? Your way is not justice, it is-"

"Vengeance."

"I cannot condone this."

Nathaniel barked out a short laugh. "You don't have to condone. You just have to stay out of my way."

* * *

><p>When Anders had finished in the infirmary he headed back to the rooms he shared with Nathaniel and all he wanted to do was curl up in his rogue's arms and sleep in safety. When he arrived however Nathaniel was sitting on the bed sharpening his daggers, the sunset streaming through the window staining the metal red.<p>

"Did you enjoy the lesson today, love?" Nathaniel asked him in a warm and gentle voice.

"I did, though the idiot managed to light a flame today." Anders forced a laugh past stiff lips. "He scorched my back something awful."

"And did you heal it?"

"No. Often in the Tower when one mage hurts another the hurts and lessons disappear when the healing begins. I'm keeping it to remind him of his foolishness." Anders recited, almost word for word what Daylen told him to say.

"I see."

"So..." Anders was curious and hovered over Nate looking at the daggers. "Those are your special ones right? Why do you have them out?"

Nate smiled softly. "No reason. I felt like seeing them again. It's been a while. I thought I'd use them the next time we head out on patrol."

Anders gave his lover a queer look. "You... felt like seeing them again? Nate, are you feeling okay?" He reached out a hand to touch the rogue's forehead.

Nate easily evaded the questing arm. "I'm fine. Why don't you get ready and go to bed? I feel like having a walk about the Keep. Something in me is restless tonight."

Anders was almost hurt before he realized this way his lover wouldn't see the shape of the burn and know it wasn't just an errant fire spell. "Alright then. Don't forget to come to bed when you're done wandering the halls."

"I'll be back before you know it."

Anders smiled and lay out on the bed as Nathaniel left their room. _What in the wide world did i do to deserve such a loving man?_ he wondered.

Nathaniel let the door swing shut behind him, eerily calm despite the fact he was going to _murder_ the "Hero of Ferelden."

He walked to the Commander's quarters, sure of his plan and sure the over-muscled barbarian would fall for his plan. He knocked politely on the thick, oaken door.

"Yes?"

"Commander? Nathaniel. I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner. There's something I'd like to speak with you about." His stomach was churning with nervousness, but his exterior show no signs of being nervous whatsoever.

There was a pause from behind the door, and then it swung open to reveal his Commander, dressed in a simple tunic and hose. "Can it wait?" the big man asked.

"No, Ser. I need to speak to you about Anders's workload."

A slow smile crept across Daylen Cousland's face and he nodded. "I'll be more than happy to discuss this with you. To the kitchens?"

This was going better than he expected. "To the kitchens." He replied with a smile of his own. _This is dangerous, Nathaniel. He is a very dangerous man, you can't let down your guard, not once. When he's down... take him to the dungeons. Get him to expose his treachery with Justice standing by and we'll show everyone what the real "Hero of Ferelden" really is._

Nathaniel opened the door of the kitchens for his Commander and set about fetching the food. "Ale, ser?"

"Of course."

Nathaniel smiled and stepped into the kitchen's cold room. After he fetched two mugs of ale, he preformed a bit of sleight of hand and dropped a handful of tasteless and odorless powder into his Commander's drink. It might take a while to kick in, but Nate was sure it would eventually. He just had to keep the man he'd been busy with the drinks, Daylen had set out a simple meal for them of dark bread, cheese, and a little meat. Nathaniel was a bit surprised by this simple peasant's fare. The Daylen he remembered from boyhood would have never settled for this.

"So what's this about Anders?"

Nate settled himself in his chair and took a long swig of his ale. "It's like this, Commander. Anders has been driving himself into the ground to meet all of the duties you've given him. He works from sun up to sunset every single day of the week and it's starting to wear on him. He just about falls over into bed every night, and his mana is so drained he can't even heal the bruises and scrapes he's picked up during the day." Nathaniel sighed and took another sip before continuing, "He's also getting more and more clumsy. Before all of this, I'd never seen him so much as misstep but now it seems like every door frame and stairway is out to get him." He sighed and nibbled a bit on the bread and cheese. He was actually hungry, truth be told. "We haven't had any time to ourselves in ages, as soon as he gets to the bed, he's asleep before he even lays down."

"I know what you're going through, Nathaniel." Daylen said, half draining his mug. "But Anders is the only mage in the entire Keep with enough skill to do what's required of him. Were it not for him, the recruits from the Tower wouldn't be as strong as they are now."

Nate snorted. "Surely the recruits deserve a break then, too? And maybe if you hadn't killed that Dalish woman she and Anders could take turns. You know he's not very well versed in combat magic anyway."

"She was a threat." Daylen shrugged and took another long drink.

"So was I," Nate pointed out, "yet you made _me_ a Warden."

"I thought it a better punishment than butchering you like your father did to my family." Daylen pointed out.

"A true friend wouldn't keep pulling my father's mistakes in to haunt me." Nathaniel frowned into his ale.

"I'm not your friend, Nathaniel Howe. I'm your Superior." Daylen replied with a calm sip of his own drink.

An awkward silence fell over them for a few minutes before the rogue said rather stiffly, "Then am I to assume that my petition for Anders to have some time off has been refused?"

"Yes. Now, leave me be." Daylen's face had gone white, and he started to sweat.

"You don't seem to be feeling well, Commander. Maybe I should help you to your room." Nate said in a very calm and neutral voice.

"No..." Daylen surged to his feet only to stumble and slump to the floor. "No, I can get there. I'm fine." He looked up at Nate's triumphant smirk with fear in his eyes. "You... you did this to me. I'll see you hang for this, Howe. I'll... see..." and with those words hanging in the air the Commander Daylen Cousland fell unconscious and spoke no more.

Nathaniel strangled the urge to let out a whoop of triumph and instead stuck his head out of the door and whistled.

Justice appeared from around the corner. "I still believe you should let the public deal with him."

"He hurt _my_ Anders. I deserve this." Nathaniel ducked back into the kitchen. "Just help me get him to the cell I was thrown in when I tried to recover my family's belongings."

Justice nodded and together they managed to half drag, half carry the unconscious man to the cell and manacle him there without being seen.

Nathaniel checked the chains holding his Commander and grinned. "You'll want to leave, Justice. You are _not_ going to like that I do next." The grin turned to a rather ugly smirk as he drew his daggers and Justice prudently withdrew at that point.

Nathaniel contented himself to imagining all of the things he was going to do to Daylen until the man's eyelids fluttered open and he let out a very pained groan.

"Ah, Commander. Good to see you finally waking up. For a few minutes there I was afraid you wouldn't and then it would be only up to me to convince the good people of your treachery." Nathaniel almost laughed.

"My... treachery?" The big man in front of him _did_ laugh. "You've betrayed Ferelden, Howe. She won't forgive you for murdering her Champion."

"Oh, I think she will." Nate said thoughtfully.

Silence, then "What did you give me?"

"Iocane powder. It's a very rare poison from the Anderfels. I was surprised when I found some in my Father's study. It's odorless, tasteless, untraceable, and dissolved perfectly in your beer without making it flat." he studied his fingernails. "Stroke of luck, really."

"Iocane? It's... universally fatal."

Hiding his surprise at Daylen knowing what Iocane was he said smoothly, "In a high enough dose, old boy. Of course, everything is fatal at that point. I knew just how much to use to knock you out and to keep you out until I was ready for you."

Daylen spat on the floor. "You'll get no satisfaction from me, Howe. I don't scream."

"Mmm," Nate hummed, "I think you will. After all, I'm not getting you back for my father. Remember our little chat in the kitchen?"

"You..." Daylen stopped himself. "I thought it would take longer for the little bitch to tell you what he's done for me. The things he let me do to him. He loves me, Howe. I heard it from those pretty lips when he had them wrapped around my-"

Nathaniel calmly shut him up with a boot to the face. Daylen's nose made a satisfactory crunch and the blood that dripped onto the floor was almost pretty in the torchlight. "I _will_ teach you manners before the night's over with." Nathaniel told the man who was clenching his teeth against the pain. "You'll be the noble your father always wanted you to be, instead of the son my father always wanted. You're exactly what he tried to turn me and Thomas into, you know. He'd be _proud_."

He jumped back with a chuckle when Daylen surged to his feet and lunged forward, only to be brought to a halt my the chains. "Tut tut, my dear Commander. You mustn't let your temper get the best of you. You might hurt something."

"When I get out of these chains, Howe... I swear to the Maker, I'll-"

"You won't be doing anything but what I tell you when you're released from those chains." Nathaniel replied in a voice as cold as the Wilds in winter.

"I doubt that."

Nathaniel laughed. "Care to make a wager?"

"No, you'll cheat."

"Too true." Nathaniel pulled out his ornately etched daggers and smiled. "Let's get down to business then, shall we?" The rogue grabbed the dagger by the blade and threw it, watching with satisfaction as it sunk into Daylen's shoulder. The big man stiffened up like a plank though his neck and head were still mobile.

"What did you do to me?"

"Another neat little poison. Paralyzes the large muscle of the limbs and torso, but leaves you able to feel... everything." Nathaniel wrenched the dagger from Daylen's shoulder and traced a small line from the man's hairline to the tip of his nose, the pressure on it only slight. "You like marking people, hmm? Lets see how you like the favor returned." Each pass he made with the dagger cut a little deeper into Daylen's flesh until a small pink line was visible. Nathaniel smiled, and added a little more pressure to the next pass. "It's funny how one small nick on the forehead can cause one to bleed profusely." He said conversationally as the blood flowed down the Commander's face.

"You won't get away with this." Daylen sputtered through the blood.

"Oh, I believe I already have."

* * *

><p>Hours later and near dawn Daylen Cousland could have had his skin stripped from him and made no sound. Nathaniel had been thorough and the big man's throat was raw. "Up now, Daylen. We have an appointment to keep." When Daylen looked up at him questioningly he laughed. "You get to tell the good people of Vigil's Keep exactly what you've done. Come now, drink this and it will heal your throat." He pushed a potion to the big man's lips and watched carefully. "That's enough." he pulled the potion away. "Don't want you to be completely healed. Come now, on your feet."<p>

Daylen shuffled along spirit and will broken long before and followed Nate to the front gate of the Keep. He watched with dull lifeless eyes and Nathaniel paced back and forth before yelling in a voice better suited to a parade ground, "Good people of Vigil's Keep! I come to tell you the truth about your hero!"

People poked their heads out of their doors and widows, trying to figure out what was going on. Someone shrieked, "Howe's betrayed us!" and a small group pushed forward only to be stopped by the glare of Justice, who placed himself between Nathaniel and the crowd.

"The only person who has betrayed you is the Commander. He has used and abused one of his own soldiers. One whom you all have come to care for."

"What are you talking about?" A gruff man near the front asked.

"Anders." Nathaniel said softly. "This man has abused the greatest treasure of my life."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. "How do we know you're tellin the truth?"

"Believe in me, and the words of Justice."

The crowd turned back to the spirit. "He speaks the truth." Justice said. "I do not approve of his methods, but Anders has been hurt. Badly."

A young woman from the back of the crowd pushed her way forward. "He did the same to me!" she told the crowd. "He said he'd kill my parents for treason if I didn't obey him."

Similar sotries echoed through the courtyard and from behind him, Nathaniel heard a quavering voice call his name. He turned around just in time for Anders to fling himself into his lover's arms. "Nate, oh Nate..." Anders sobbed in his ear.

"Shh, love. Why didn't you say anything?"

"What good would it have done? It never did any good in the Tower!" Anders shook his head. "He would have killed you!"

"He can't hurt you anymore, love and you must remember that this isn't the Tower. You have a voice." He raised his face to the crowd. "Good people, what should we do with this... criminal marauding as a hero?"

"Kill him!"

"Burn him!"

"Let Anders torch him!"

"Hang him!"

"You should kill him!" a few more voices took up this statement until the crowd was chanting; "Stab him," over and over again.

Nathaniel smiled and set Anders to the side for a moment before plunging both daggers into Daylen Cousland's back. The man screamed once before it died off into a rattling gurgle. Then, ignoring the crowd again, Nathaniel herded Anders back to the safety of their room where they could finally rest, freed from the ghosts of the past.


End file.
